


Calling All Dawns

by Basilton



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Everyone is Queer, Fix-It, M/M, Other pairings mainly offscreen, Politics, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut will be noted in chapter notes for those who wish to avoid it, Spoilers, implied Gladnis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9415157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basilton/pseuds/Basilton
Summary: - Spoilers for the ending of FFXV -It was not the act of sacrifice that was important, just the willingness to carry it through. When Noctis emerges from the crystal, he is free in more ways than one. His choices are no longer made for him, and that includes who to love.This isn't a new ending. It's a new beginning, for all of them.





	1. Grand Theft Prompto

Prompto couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d been as still as he was now. Finger wrapped around the trigger in as futile gesture he could manage, he did not move a muscle as their fated enemy picked himself up from death and walked away.

“Be seeing you, boys. You’d best get a move on, you’re oh so far from home.”

He barely caught those mocking words, his mind still fixated on what had been said only moments before.

_Ah, but Noct has learned the truth. The crystal was never his saviour. It only meant to take his life._

“Come on,” Gladio said beside him. “No use staying around here.”

Prompto rounded on him, heat crawling from his chest to his chin as he yelled at his comrade. “How can you _say_ that,” he yelled, puffing up to his full less than impressive height in front of the mountain of a man. He couldn’t leave Noct behind, not after they’d come all this way, not after Noct came so far for _him_. “We can’t leave him behind. Not here, not _now_.”

“So what do you plan on doing, then, huh?” Gladio said, refusing, as always, to back down. “You gonna go inside the crystal and pull him out? Or do we just wait inside a demon infested fortress until destiny decides to show up?”

Prompto deflated, his shoulders falling and his arms going limp. “I know. I- I know. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“We share your frustration,” Ignis said. Prompto looked up as a hand was placed on his shoulder to see that familiar understated sympathy worn openly on his face. “None of us would abandon Noctis willingly. But we must trust that he is on the right path.”

Prompto let out a breathy, shaky sigh. “I don’t want Noct to die.”

“Don’t listen to that arsehole.” It took a second for Prompto to realise that the words didn’t come out of Gladio’s mouth, but were instead delivered by Ignis’ clipped tones. “He has led us to disaster from the moment we met him.”

He nodded along, but his heart still did not buy the reassuring words. A dark cloud had been hanging over the group from the moment Noct had taken possession of the ring. He’d never asked, afraid of hearing the answer he already knew. It was going to kill his best friend.

“What if we take the crystal with us?”

Gladio chuckled. “Buddy, I’m strong, but I’m not that strong.”

“What would that achieve?” Ignis asked.

“Well, Noct’s gotta come out of the crystal at some point, right?” Prompto’s confidence grew with each word. He skipped around the sides of the walkway, eyeing the chains that were anchoring the crystal into place. “So let’s make sure he comes out somewhere safe!”

“And how do you propose we remove it?”

“Well, they got it in here somehow, right?” Prompto said. He knelt down next to one of the chains, running his hands over the cold steel surface to find some sort of latch for releasing it. “So we can get it out.”

“Yeah, I get you kid,” Gladio said, kneeling down on the opposite side of the crystal and inspecting the chain there. “This place is big enough to get one of their ships in. That’s how we get it out.”

“Yeah!” Prompto stood up and punched the air in delight. “Let’s go! I’ll find a ship, you and Iggy see if you can get the crystal loose!”

Prompto shuffled past Ignis, patting his friend gently on the arm as he passed. Giving Gladio one last determined nod, he sprinted down the walkway and back into the hellhole corridors of the keep.

“Right! So if I was a freaky ship, where would I be?” he asked himself as the elevator creaked and rumbled its way back down to the lower levels. Right! The hangar where they fought that Ravus guy! “I hope the daemons haven’t decided to come back.”

Life, as usual, was not so kind to him. While certainly fewer than they had faced before, the room was lousy with daemons, large and small milling around the clear space in front of the lines of dormant mechs and abandoned ships.

“Okay, Prompto,” he whispered to himself, crouching behind the nearest wall of crates. The daemons were wandering aimlessly through the hangar, and though occasionally a daemon would stumble through, he could see a clear path around the back to the closest drop ship — conveniently, with its door still left open. “Let’s do this.”

Keeping low, he ducked from his cover to the edge of the platform that held the elevator, dropping down as silently as he could into the blind corridors made by the stacked crates and equipment that scattered the huge room. He reached for his gun by reflex as he landed, the familiar tingle of magic giving way to a heavy but familiar weight in his hands.

His gun… he stared at his hand, at the faithful sidearm he’d summoned a thousand times before. Noct! Their magic still worked, so Noct must still be alive!

He couldn’t help himself, his smile spreading from ear to ear as he soaked the feeling in. It was _proof_ the bastard was lying! The connection he had with his prince was not broken and until the day it was, he would storm this damned keep a thousand times for him.

Pressing a gloved hand to the side of the crates, he pulled his closer until he could peer around the corner, his gun held tense against his chest.

Clear. Nothing but empty floor and the discordant sound of claws scraping on metal grating off in the distance.

He scrambled through the open space to the next cover he could find, a wall high stack of steel tanks holding Gods knew what. He pressed his back against the steel, trying to steady his breathing as blood rushed through his ears.

“C’mon Prompto, you’re being ridiculous,” he whispered to himself, eyes darting between each opening. Across the hangar floor, behind a maze of supply crates and scattered debris, lay his target. Somehow, despite his chest being tighter than his jeans, his heart managed to pound like a racing chocobo, beating out a turbulent rhythm in his chest. “You’ve done this plenty of times before.”

_But never alone_ , that dark corner of his mind reminded him. _Always with someone to hold your hand_. No, he wouldn’t think like that. He’d always needed the others, now they needed him. He wouldn’t let them down. Not just Noct, but Gladio and Ignis too. Who, despite every reason not to, had not hesitated to accept him. Who, when confronted with the dark reality of what he was, replied that they already knew _who_ he was. How could he ever let that trust down?

“Guys… I’ve got this.” Breaking from his cover he sprinted across the floor, ducking behind the debris and detritus as often as he could to shield him from prying, glowing eyes. The sound of soft rubber soles hitting hard concrete was too loud in his ears, but far better than being caught out in the open by one of the lumbering giants. He weaved through the waist high crates, vaulting over those that stood in his way and scrambling under others that offered a clearer path. Clumsy? Ha! He was majestic as—

The room shook with a cacophonous crash and Prompto fell flat on his face, only just managing to tuck into a roll to avoid any scrapes to his skin. His momentum was unceremoniously ended by a steel wall saying hello to his shoulder, the impact wrenching his gun from his fingers where it disappeared into tiny shards of blue light.

Ugh, at least he could always summon it back. He lay still, leaning against the wall as he desperately tried to look and listen for any sign of the daemons. Moments passed, his heart making a valiant attempt to leave his body via his throat as the silence stretched on. More scrabbling of claws came back, then another violent crash. His eyes fixed on the walkway overhead, where a giant was doggedly trying to walk on a surface completely unsuited for bearing its massive weight. Half the walkway had buckled already, the twisted metal curled down to the floor like some macabre industrial slide. The supports splayed out, knocking a huge wall of crates down into a tumble of disarray.

Well, a distraction was exactly what he needed right now. Trying to ignore the sound of screeching metal piercing his skull, he hauled himself to his feet. He held himself steady for a few moments, eyes scanning his surroundings while he steadied his breathing. A group of imps flapped frantically around the giant, adding their own high pitched screams to the tortured metal. In the distance a pair of Reapers stalked the floor, unperturbed by the chaos around them. A lone Magitek Trooper dragged its axe behind it as it shambled in front of the row of ships.

The ship was so close now, just beyond the next wall of crates. _Chop chop, Prompto_. He grinned and dashed for it, trusting in the cacophony of sound surrounding the giant to keep him safe for now. The ship was just around the corner, the back ramp down and ready for him. Perfect. He turned the corner, heels clicking on the concrete as he made a break for the ship—

A loud screech, a blur of metal and he was tumbling again. He fell to the floor, something grabbing at his leg. He kicked out blindly, trying desperately to dislodge whatever was grabbing him.

A pained metallic moan had him scrambling, kicking furiously until he could back away and face his attacker. The Magitek Trooper — axe discarded and crawling towards him on the floor, one hand wrapped too tight around his ankle.

“Shit! Shit!” he said, far too loud. He scrabbled backwards, reaching for gun. He felt the weight in his hand before it appeared in a shower of crystal light. He pulled the trigger twice, two shots ringing out. Two shots pierced the trooper’s helmet, exploding in fragments of grey metal and eerie Magitek red.

The echo of the gunshots faded and the room was utterly quiet. Even the screeching of the imps had given way to the ominous silence.

Prompto scrambled to his feet. “Sorry,” he said, flicking his eyes to the slowly disintegrating corpse of the Magitek Trooper. He’d never learned what lay beneath those medieval masks and a part of him never wanted to find out. Maybe in another fate he was the one behind that mask, dying alone on a featureless floor in a room full of monsters.

The room exploded with noises, scrabbling claws and screeching imps, the dull thumps of the giants moving. Prompto dashed for the ship, feet pounding up the ramp in sheer desperation. He could already see it in his imagination, a thousand Magitek Troopers crawling behind him, grasping at his heels, trying to drag him back. He rustled through the equipment at the edge of the door, trying to find something, a lever or switch maybe, that would close the ramp before any of the fiends could get in. Wires, some weird netting, but nothing of use. This really wasn’t the best time to realise he had no idea how these ships worked.

“Shit!” He looked back out to the hangar. Nothing yet, but with that blind corner they’d be on the ramp before he could see them coming.

The control panel— cockpit— whatever it was! Gotta be! He ran up the ship, dumping his ass in the pilot’s seat and reaching for the controls. Perfect! It looked just like he was hoping — a horrid mess of knobs and buttons everywhere that made no logical sense at all. At least he could read the labels. APU GEN, ENG T BLEED, FAC 2. Well, that made a load of sense. Aha! R. HATCH. That was probably it. With a triumphant grin he jammed his finger into the button.

Nothing.

“Oh, man. Don’t tell me I gotta start this thing as well.” He looked along the entire pilot’s side for anything that even resembled “on”. Maybe an ignition? Well, that would suck given he didn’t have a key.

“Oh,” he whispered to himself as he spotted what he needed. A small green bar, exactly the same as the ones all over the keep. He pulled his wristband down and held his codeprint up to the reader. The ship shuddered, lights on the console flashing green, yellow, everything bathed in a soft hum. He hit the button again and with satisfaction turned to his to hear the mechanical whirring of the rear door closing on him.

He’d made it.

Now he just had to learn how to fly this thing. Couldn’t be hard, right? They had sims in the arcade and he fancied himself a bit of an ace pilot, better than Noct at any rate.

How hard could it be?

The ship shuddered hard enough to nearly knock him out of his seat, leaving him clinging on in desperation as the world moved out from under him. A hiss and the sound of screeching, bending metal had him looking back to a nice sword shaped indent in the top corner of the cargo bay.

“Shit!” he yelled, pulling himself up in his seat and grabbing the controls desperately. He yanked on the yoke. Nothing. Dammit... throttle? The centre console did indeed have a bunch of throttles sitting there. He tentatively reached for one, wincing when the ship shook from another hit.

He inched the throttle forward, his face frozen in a pained wince as the hum of the engines started winding up. No, too fast! Too fast!

He pulled back on the throttle only to have the ship flip into reverse, flying back at ungodly speeds until suddenly it wasn’t, and Prompto was flying forward in his chair.

He sprawled along the controls in what was possibly one of the most painful pratfalls he had ever taken in his life. The ship was hissing at him, red lights blaring all over the control panel as a warning siren blared loud enough to alert all the monsters that hadn’t _already_ noticed his presence.

“Fuckin’ ace job, Prompto,” he whined as he peeled himself off the dashboard and stared through the windshield.

A dozen monsters stared right back at him.

“That’s cool, even the monsters think you’re an idiot,” he muttered as he plastered himself back into the pilot’s chair, this time taking the extra few seconds to click the harness into place. “No wonder Iggy’s always making a fuss.”

Grabbing the controls in both hands, he looked back through the window and grinned at the horde of monsters charging towards him.

“Might as well go out doing something epic, yeah?”

He grabbed the throttle and shoved it forward.


	2. Escape From The City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I went away for a wedding last week, so I haven't had much time to write at all. I'll be trying to keep updates to be around once a week in the future.

Gladio grunted as he strained on another one of the damned chains, not even able to budge it in the slightest. He let go of the metal and fell back, defeated. “You right there, Iggy?” he asked, looking over to where Ignis was kneeling down to run his hands over the joins at the edge of the platform.

“I will keep up. Worry about the crystal, not me.”

He snorted. Right, as if that was ever going to happen. “Hey, I gotta have someone to babysit until Noct gets back,” he said, trying to keep his tone a light as possible.

“Empty nest syndrome, Gladio? You should have said,” Ignis replied.

“And give you ammo to mock me?”

“Mock you?” Ignis asked, putting one hand on his chest in mock outrage. “I would never.”

“Iggy, you can’t say ‘I would never’ _while_ doing the thing you said you’d never do.” Gladio huffed and turned to Ignis, hands on his hips and a wry smile on his lips. That was, until he remembered that his partner could not see that smile. Despite their foolish optimism, might not ever again. The smile faded quickly.

“I think you’ll find I’m very talented,” Ignis said, oblivious to the drop in mood.

_Oh, now isn’t this just sweet._

They both jumped as the taunting voice echoed through the chamber.

“What do _you_ want, arsehole?” Gladio growled.

_Please boys, I am doing you a favour. You want the crystal returned to Lucis, do you not? Generous as I am, I will take it for you._

“I am not inclined to believe any of your actions come from generosity,” Ignis said. Gladio agreed, though with a rather different selection of words.

_Ah, such a pity. Perhaps best that I have left you no choice in the matter._

The platform shifted, knocking Gladio away from the crystal and leaving him sprawling on the steel grating. With a mechanical clinking of chains the crystal rose from the platform, the links holding it in place snapping under the strain.

“Gladio! What is happening?”

The chains still dangling from the bottom of the crystal looked solid enough… if he jumped and grabbed one, he could probably hold on long enough to get to wherever the bastard was taking it. But that would mean leaving Ignis behind.

His king or his partner. There was only one answer.

Noctis would never forgive him for leaving Ignis.

“The crystal is being pulled up on there chains,” he explained, rushing to Ignis’ side. “Come on, not much we can do.”

He tugged on Ignis’s arm. His pull was resisted and he let out a weary sigh. “If I weren’t here…” Ignis started.

“If you weren’t here I wouldn’t have made it,” he said, tugging more insistently at the other’s sleeve. “And we’re gonna need you to get outta here, so quit your moping and move.”

Ignis bowed his head. “My apologies,” he said, falling in step behind Gladio as they made their way down the walkway. “What will we do about the crystal?”

“If the evil hobo wants to take it to Lucis, we might as well pick it up there,” he said more than believed. With an immortal daemon spawn — or whatever the hell Ardyn actually was — as an enemy, their chances weren’t looking that good. “Let’s see how the kid is getting on.”

A damn sight more successful than they were, apparently. The elevators took them down in no time to the hangar, where Gladio was delighted to be the sole witness to an Iron Giant taking several tons of out of control Imperial drop ship to the face.

The rest of the room was a mess, most of the storage and shelving units knocked haphazardly down, a few rows of energy tanks blazing merrily away with blue fire. The ship didn’t look much better, there one side that hadn’t been caved in was covered in scorch marks and thick black daemon blood.

“Do I even want to ask?”

Gladio belted out a short laugh and clapped Ignis on the back. “Kid’s gonna have a good story to tell.”

With the Iron Giant well taken care of, the ship managed some sort of stability, only knocking into the walls a few times before it settled into a light hover in the centre of the room.

“Hey, Prompto!” Gladio yelled over the clatter of metal and roar of engines. “Change of plan!”

After a few moments of nothing but the whine of the engines he turned to Ignis. “You think he heard me?”

“I think the dead heard you.”

That may not have been as much of an exaggeration as Ignis thought. Screams and growls echoed around the room, coming from every direction and no direction all at once. There were plenty of daemons still to go around.

“Prompto!” Gladio yelled, louder and more shaky than ever. Grabbing Ignis’s  arm, he dragged the other man to the edge of the platform, the only place they had any  chance of reaching the ship.

The rear hatch on the ship shuddered slowly open as there giant steel monstrosity inched closer to the edge. “Come on, kid,” Gladio whispered, trying to ignore the baying and scratching of daemons getting closer and closer. He didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to learn if their death was approaching faster than the ship.

“Tell me when to jump,” Ignis whispered beside him, barely loud enough to hear over the din.

Gladio gave a single determined nod, patting Ignis on the shoulder so he could understand. They could do this. “When I say go,” he said, calling on his king’s magic to draw his greatsword from the air.

“Huh, this is new,” Gladio said, hefting the unfamiliar weight of the greatsword to his shoulder. _Hyperion,_ his mind helpfully supplied him.

“What is new?”

“New sword,” he said, slashing down a wide arc into the horde of imps that were leaping to their position. They fell in a gibbering pile, black blood oozing and bubbling from where the blade had sliced clean through. “Damn good sword,” he added with a wide and toothy grin. “Get ready, Iggy!”

It wasn’t as hard as he thought, fending off the tide of daemons while keeping an eye out for the right distance to jump. He liked to keep himself moving while he fought anyway, moving his body with his sword and spinning gracefully on his feet in a way that could have only been honed by years of ballet (that was one titbit about his childhood that he would _not_ share with the others). Every spin brought another swathe of daemons to the ground and another glimpse at the distance to the ship, until-

“Go, Iggy! Jump!”

It should have been a sure thing. Sure, it was a long jump to make, but Ignis was ridiculously acrobatic and could have made that jump with a backflip thrown in.

But the second his feet left the walkway, far too early, Gladio knew he wasn’t going to make it.

Of course. There was no way for him to judge how far he was from the edge.

Gladio could only watch as Ignis hit the edge of the ramp hard, his hands grasping desperately for purchase on the cold steel.

“Iggy!” he yelled, pushing back the horde of daemons with one last sweep of Hyperion before it vanished into a shower of crystal shards. He sprinted down the walkway, blood pounding in his ears, and leaped the second his foot touched the edge.

It was a mistake. He was too distracted, looking at Ignis instead of where he was jumping. 

He hit the ramp with a crash, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact as he rolled up the steel slope. His fingers wrapped around the nearest handhold he could find, the cool steel nearly wrenched from his grasp when the ship shuddered around him.

“Iggy,” he gasped, shifting even with his precarious grip to try and find…

“I’ve got you Iggy, don't worry!”

Prompto was there, both hands clutching on to Ignis’s forearm with his feet wedged into door’s hydraulics. Ignis’s free arm flailed desperately against the side of the ship. “I appreciate that, Prompto,” he said. “But I am finding it rather difficult _not_ to worry.”

“C’mon,” Gladio said, crawling down the ramp with more confidence than his balance would lend him. He glanced at the walkway — they were still slowly approaching and the daemons looked ready to leap aboard even before the collision could slice Ignis in half. He spread his legs as wide as he dared, grabbing Prompto with one arm for support and hauling Ignis over the edge with another. “Get inside! Quickly!”

Prompto was up before Ignis had even staggered to his feet, rushing down to the front of the ship and leaning over the controls. Gladio pulled his sword from the air as the ramp shifted underneath them.

“Back in,” he said, letting the sword fade back into the crystal’s magic. He grabbed Ignis by the arm and hauled him inside as the door closed behind them, muffled screeches and thumps echoing off the hard steel until the ship was sealed.

“I’ve pushed us forward a bit,” Prompto said, standing up from the controls. “Kinda hard to get right, but should give us a minute.”

“You did good, kid,” Gladio said, wrapping his arms around Prompto and pulling him off his feet. He failed to keep the shake out of his voice. “You did so fuckin’ good.”

“N-no worries, big guy,” Prompto said, fingers wrapping around Gladio’s biceps until he let the smaller boy go. “How about the crystal?”

“Ardyn has taken it,” Ignis said, his stony tone betraying nothing. With only a few false steps he found one of the rear seats and carefully lowered himself in.

“He’s taking it to Lucis,” Gladio added, his eyes not deviating from Ignis’s stiff movements. “We’ll take it back from him there.”

“R-right,” Prompto said, sitting down into the pilot’s seat and strapping himself in. “We should get outta this place, then.”

“Yeah,” Gladio said, drawing his eyes away and taking the seat next to Prompto. He glanced over at the kid, settling into the controls like he’d been flying one of the things all his life, but decided better of asking. Prompto was still Prompto, and he could be pretty delicate at times. Throwing him off balance with questions about the whole Magitech thing was a bad idea already, even without him flying a ship.

“This is your captain speaking,” Prompto said, turning to face them both, one hand on the throttle. “Hold on to each other’s butts.”

                                                                                                 

* * *

 

Prompto leaned back in the chair and let the tension ease out of his shoulders as he manoeuvred the ship out of the hangar. The Six must have been watching over them back there, because he couldn’t think of any other way he could’ve managed to pull that off. Maybe it was payment for taking Noct from— no. He wouldn’t think of that, not now. He couldn’t break down again, not when his friends were counting on him to get them out of this shithole.

The final doors parted for them automatically and they were free, days — weeks for Prompto — of confinement coming to an end in a rush of air and pitch black sky. The lights of Gralea stretched below them, the pale and sickly light drowning out the stars in the sky above, leaving only a milky blue haze where the clouds lazily stretched across the sky. It was tense, empty, no movement to be seen despite the city stretching to the horizon in every direction.

“It’s dead,” Gladio whispered, his usually husky voice cracking mid-sentence. “Is anyone alive down there?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Prompto said, bringing them down a bit lower. Nothing but empty streets, the occasional vehicle surrounded with flames the only sign of life. “I guess I should be sad, huh?”

“The loss of innocent life is always upsetting,” Ignis said softly from the back. “Despite the actions of their emperor, I have no doubt Niflheim held many good and many bad, as all countries do.”

“Huh,” Prompto said, closing his eyes briefly. “Thanks, Ignis.”

“If the surroundings are clear, perhaps we should stop to collect the Regalia.”

The area was still clear of daemon by the time they arrived, though the upturned trains and strewn debris pushed Prompto’s nerves to the limit as he set the ship down in the only clear spot they could find. As the ramp lowered and they walked ghastly mix of snow and ash, Prompto’s heart sank. Charred and twisted, the… well, body, of the Regalia was lying underneath the wreckage of a train carriage. Just one more casualty.

“Oh, man,” Prompto whined. “What do we do?”

“The best we can,” Gladio replied. “C’mon, let’s get the old girl out and head home.”


	3. What Happens in the Crystal Stays in the Crystal

“Hey, I got something y’all should see.”

“Can it wait?” Prompto asked, flopping himself on the dead grass outside the workshop in Hammerhead. “I just need to take a quick ten year nap.”

Three weeks had passed since they returned from Gralea, a full month since the sun had appeared in the sky anywhere on Eos. Every waking moment was spent shoring up outposts, escorting refugees, rescuing other hunters and trying to hold back the inevitable and all consuming tide of daemons. Every hour brought a new report over the radio, another town lost without word, another outpost abandoned, another brother or sister in arms fallen.

Prompto’s latest mission hadn’t been a stunning success. Lestallum was fast becoming their only beacon of hope in the darkness, with its power plant still able to run in the darkness, the city could power massive flood lights that brought enough illumination to keep the daemons at bay. Refugees from all over the world flocked to the city in the hope of salvation, their journeys helped only by the coordination of Dave and the Hunter’s Guild.

Dave had sent him down to Galdin Quay to meet a group of half a dozen families that had sailed from Altissia on makeshift rafts.

They didn’t make it to Longwythe.

Prompto blamed himself.

“C’mon, mopey,” Cindy said, grabbing his arm and hauling him to his feet. “This’ll put a smile back on that pretty face o’ yours.”

“Thanks, Cindy,” he said, giving her a hollow grin. He appreciated it, her help and her company both. But every day that went saw the flame of hope in his heart, kept alive by the thought of Noctis’s return, dim a little. Long enough in the darkness, even that light would die out.

“It ain’t nothin’, not after what y’all have given for everyone,” she said, pushing the doors to the workshop open.

Prompto’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t help but give a little gasp. There, glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights, sat the Regalia, restored to her former glory. Better than new, in fact, every surface and detail gleaming like it had just rolled out of the factory doors. “Cindy… aren’t there more important things to work on?” He winced as he said it. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful, not after all the effort that must have gone into it. Not when that effort brought a tear to his eye.

“Now, swords and guns ain’t the only thing that’ll win us this fight,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Y’all need some hope, a symbol. I figure this’ll do it better ’n’ anything.”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah, this’ll do it.”

“’Sides, she’s still got them daemon stoppin’ headlights y’all found with the Prince,” she said, standing beside him and placing one hand on his back. “I figure there’s no better way for you boys to get back and forth when ya need to in a hurry.”

Prompto pursed his lips and gave her a sharp, determined nod. “You’re right. It’ll be a big help. Thanks Cindy, for everything.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she said, placing her hands over both of his forearms and turning him gently towards her. “Hey, Prompto…”

He felt his cheeks heat up. Damn nerves. “Yeah?”

She gave him a sad smile and looked away, as if she were privy to some revelation that eluded him. “You’re a good man, y’hear? You stay safe. We need ya.”

Gods, his cheeks felt like they were on fire. He was such an embarrassment, he couldn’t even deal with touching his friend without blushing like some virgin schoolboy. How did she put up with him?

“Maybe a bit much goin’ on in that head o’ yours,” she said, giving his arms a brief squeeze before letting go.

“Yeah, right,” Prompto said with a snort. Like anyone had ever accused him of being too intellectual.

“C’mon, the others should be back soon. Let’s go wait for them.”

Cindy led him to their usual spot outside the caravan, looking over the bare expanse of empty roads and the hills that hid the ruined city of Insomnia.

“Huh,” Cindy said as they sat down in the chairs. “You can’t usually see the hills at night.”

Prompto looked up from his daze, out to where Cindy was pointing in the horizon. It was true, the hills were lit up in the night, a light golden sheen glinting against the deep blue night sky. As he watched, the glow grew brighter, the stars disappeared and the night sky paled to a welcoming blue.

Then a brilliant light filled his vision, forcing him to look away with a pained hiss. The world glowed yellow and orange, too bright for his sensitive eyes, while screams, cheers and laughter erupted around them.

“Woah,” Cindy said beside him. He couldn’t find the words to react.

“He did it,” Cindy went on, her voice full of breathless excitement. “He really did it!”

“Yeah,” Prompto said, flat and uneven, looking down at his hand. Something felt off. Something… no.

He reached for his gun.

It didn’t come.

* * *

 

Noctis gave his life to bring back a dawn he would never see.

Luna was robbed of hers to steal the dawn away.

“Is this it?” he asked, turning to her. They stood in the gardens of the Citadel in Insomnia, or perhaps just a recreation of it from his mind. Before the fall, before the darkness. Sunlight flooded in through the glass walls, bringing an ethereal, almost fake, warmth to everything it touched. “Is this how we spend the rest of time?”

“Is something wrong, Noctis?” she asked, turning to him. “Was there something more that you…?”

“Maybe,” he said. He wandered over to one of to one of the benches, nestled in the shade of a beautiful tree with golden leaves, and sat down. He motioned to Luna with a small wave and with a warm smile she followed, taking a space next to him. “I mean, this is nice and everything… but I was hoping there’d be more people. Mum, dad. There’s so much I gotta say to them.”

“Oh, Noctis, I am so sorry,” she said, placing a hand on his thigh. “I will explain, but first, please, there is one thing I must know.”

The hand was removed from his thigh and clutched tightly with the other in Luna’s lap. “What is it?” Noctis asked, sitting up and turning his full attention to her.

“When you were told we were to be married, what did you think of it?”

Noctis leaned back, running his fingers through the back of his hair. “That’s it?” he asked, letting out the nervousness that had crept into his body through a short laugh. “Uh, I always knew I wouldn’t have a real choice in who I married. Finding it would be you… I guess I was just happy.”

She smiled and nodded, her eyes fixed on the grass in front of them. “But it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“When was what I wanted ever important?” Noctis asked with an amused snort.

“It’s important now. To me,” she replied.

“You know what it’s like,” he said. She nodded, and he trusted that she did understand, better than anyone else could. People with their _lineage_ did not get to make choices for themselves. “Without having the option, how could we know?”

Noctis looked down as he felt her fingers curl around his own. She took his hand into her lap and held it there, running the tips of her fingers along his skin.

“I think we both deserve some choice, don’t you?”

He pulled his gaze away from their entwined hands to look her in the eyes, returning her soft smile with one of his own. “Not even death will stop you from doing the cryptic Oracle thing, huh?”

“It is… past time that I explained, Noctis.”

“Luna?”

“None but the old Kings of Lucis appear because we are not dead. We are still inside the crystal.”

Noctis clutched her hands desperately as a well of panic rose up in his throat. “But then everything that happened,” he said, barely able to grasp the swirling thoughts that threatened to knock him down. “The darkness, Ardyn, it’s…”

“It’s done,” she said, holding on to his hand as tight as he was holding on to hers. “You brought back the dawn. But it was never a fight that could be held on the mortal plane.”

“Does that mean…” he said, forcing the words out past the lump in his throat. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t put his wildest hopes words for fear that they would be turned down, his last wish denied to him.

“It was not necessary for the King to give his life, only that he be willing to do so.” Luna brought his hand to her mouth and left a soft kiss on his fingers. “You can return, if that is your wish.”

He caught his immediate, heartfelt acceptance before it could leave his lips. _You_. Did that mean… “What about you?” he asked, the weight of that question sinking in. Luna had not been pulled into the crystal, she was already long dead by the time…

“Wherever my king goes, I will go.”

Gods, did she always have to throw his emotions around every which way? He pulled her into a tight embrace, unable to help giving up a small chuckle at her tiny yelp of surprise. “I don’t need to be king and you don’t need to be Oracle,” he said. “Not anymore.”

“Maybe not,” she whispered into his neck. “But what will you choose?”

“Huh?” Noctis pulled back from the hug and stared into Luna’s eyes. She broke the gaze, ducking her head. “What do you mean?”

“You’re conflicted, Noctis,” she said, lifting her head but still not meeting his eyes. “The future is uncertain and for once you will get to choose. I am no longer the Oracle, that is true. I can no longer guide you.”

He let out a laugh, the creeping anxiety escaping with his mirth. “You don’t have to be an Oracle to guide me, y’know.”

He could just catch the glimpse of a smile as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I suppose we both have a lot to learn. How about as a friend, instead?”

“Friend? But…”

Luna stood from the bench and held her hand out to him. “If we are to be together, let it be because we both choose it,” she said. He grabbed her hand and let her pull him to his feet. “It is my own selfish wish.”

Noctis laughed and shook his head. Gods, that was just so Luna. “If you think that’s selfish, you’re not gonna like it out there.”

“I did not say it was a bad thing,” she said, one corner of her mouth curling up ever so slightly. “I dedicated my life to the service of others. I think it will be nice to be selfish for once.”

“You deserve it,” he replied, meaning those words with every ounce of sincerity he had. “I didn’t rub off on you, did I? I dedicated my life to avoiding duty.”

“Mmmm… I think you have. But in a good way.” Luna took his hand and led him down the path, towards the great doors that led back into the Citadel. “I need to make my own choices too… perhaps you will teach me?”

“The blind leading the blind, huh?”

“How about… friends showing each other the way?”

He nodded. “I think I’ve got a bit of experience with that.”

His hand slipped from hers and he walked behind her, letting her lead him down the familiar corridors of what was once his home. His days of wandering the labyrinthine halls seemed like a lifetime ago, back when the sun would rise and the burden of a legacy didn’t weigh upon his brow.

“Where are we going?” he asked, as they turned the corner to a familiar wing. His own childhood room, before he had moved out of the Citadel, lay down that polished corridor.

“Wherever you want,” Luna said cryptically as she led him into his own room. It was exactly as he remembered it.

“Lie down,” she instructed. He hesitated, looking uncertainly between her and the bed. At her knowing nod, he gave into her wishes and lay down over the covers. “Sleep. You remember how to do that, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having too much fun coming up with stupid chapter names. Thank you to everyone who has left a comment so far!
> 
> I tried updating the summary because it was a bit too ambiguous to what the story was about, but I'm still not happy with it. Ehhh... might fiddle around with it later.
> 
> Ardyn dies offscreen in a dumpster somewhere. rip.


	4. Re... un... ion

“I want… to ride my… chocobo all day…” Noct half mumbled, half panted as he stomped through more endless desert, his off-key singing and the crunching of his boots in the sand the only sounds to keep him company. What he wouldn’t give for a chocobo right now… maybe not his kingdom, but a _lot_.

He’d tried calling for Cloud, several hours and probably half his body weight in sweat ago, but his mount never showed up. He hoped nothing had happened to the poor animal, but judging from the complete absence of sound or movement in his location, well… he’d just keep hoping.

The road in the horizon was growing closer with each step, along with the indistinct shape of buildings that, if he had his bearings right, must be Hammerhead. He’d never paid attention to orienteering when younger, just another in the long line of skills he was regretting his childish resistance to learning.

The road was closer by far, even if it did take him a bit further to walk to get there first. At least if he collapsed by the side of the road before he got to the outpost, he’d have a chance of being spotted by a passing car. Determination in his step and thoughts of all the people who relied on him in his heart (especially Luna, but that was more centred around _why did she dump me in the middle of the desert_ ), he made his way to the road.

He was getting weaker with every step he took. A journey they had made many times before, but with no water or chocobos, it was proving to be deadly. The sun beat down on his back, what was once a welcoming heat turning into a relentless oppressor. His clothes, drenched with sweat and covered by a fine layer of sand, were no longer the striking black of Lucian royalty but a pale and dusty brown. He’d abandoned his jacket in the dirt an hour ago and opted to wrap his shirt around his face as flimsy protection against the ever present dust.

Shirtless, barely conscious and covered in dust. That’s how he was found by the side of the road as the sun sank behind the mountains.

“Can you hear me, son?”

Noctis opened his eyes, the vast expanse of the sky and all its stars staring back down at him. They were moving slowly… no, he was moving, quickly. His world shook and knocked the breath out of him, laying him flat just as he struggled to sit up. A firm hand was on his back, helping to pull himself into a sitting position. He was in the back of a truck, an older man he didn’t recognise sitting next to him, back against the cab and legs stretched out on the wooden bedding.

“What’s you name, son?”

“Uh.” He coughed, hash and rattling, his mind bringing up images of clumps of sand stuck in his lungs that he was trying to expel. “N-” he tried again, only to be struck with another coughing fit.

“Here,” the man said, placing a bottle of water into his palm, which Noctis gratefully accepted, bringing it to his lips and downing the whole bottle in one long continuous gulp. “Dunno what you were thinkin’, walkin’ out there. On yer way to Hammerhead?”

He nodded, steadying himself against the coughing fit the water had triggered. He felt something come up, slimy and gritty at the same time in his mouth, and leaned over the side of the truck to spit it into the road.

“We’re headed there now, should only be a few more minutes,” the man said. “You got friends there?”

He nodded.

“Good, good. Someone’ll need to take care of ya for a bit. We came out ‘cause the sun came up. Beautiful sight after so damn long in the dark. That what catch ya out, not expecting the sun?”

Noctis softly shook his head, his eyes drifting back close. The weariness was catching back up with him.

“Huh. Well, hafta catch yer story some other time. We’re here.”

He tried to say something, but the words didn’t come to his lips.

He opened his eyes to such a strikingly ugly fabric above him that he knew, even before his brain had engaged, that he was on the lower bunk in the caravan in Hammerhead. 

Noctis stretched slowly, feeling each tense muscle scream in both pain and relief as they were moved. Well, he couldn’t have had that much sleep, since his body was still only reluctantly obeying his commands. He swallowed despite his still dry mouth and swung his legs over the bed.

The door swung open and a ray of sunshine entered the caravan.

“Hey, you in here? They said they picked someone up on the road, I’ve got some water.”

He’d know that voice, weary and ragged though it sounded, even if it’d been a thousand years since he heard it last.

“Prom-pto,” he gasped, the syllabled barely making it out of his sand-scarred throat.

“Wha-! Noct! Noct! _Noct_!”

For a moment his vision was a blur of blond hair and tear-streaked freckles before he was slammed into the bunk by the full weight of his excitable friend. Wiry arms snaked around his back, a bony chin buried itself in his neck. He gave in and clung to the back of Prompto’s shirt, an anchor to a reality he didn’t want to escape.

He clung even tighter as Prompto’s body shuddered against his. “Noct, _Noct_ ,” Prompto sobbed into his neck. He could feel the drops of tears against his skin, falling on to his shoulder and streaking down his bare back. “You came— I was— I thought you—”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Noctis croaked, rubbing Prompto’s back over his shirt. “I’m here, it’s ok.”

The weight on his chest lifted and he felt a brief touch of lips on his temple. “Ha… Noct. Gods,” Prompto said, sitting back on the bed and allowing Noctis enough room to sit next to him. “Y-you have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“I have some idea,” he said with a brief smile, letting one hand linger on his friend’s back for a moment before letting it drop. “How long have I been gone?”

“A month, give or take? Since the sun came up,” Prompto said, and then that face was buried in his shoulder again, sobbing against his skin. “You did it. You really did it.”

“Yeah,” Noctis said lamely, wrapping his arms around Prompto’s chest and squeezing him into a tight hug. They weren’t usually so affectionate with each other, but there was something about the sheer physicality of the touch that Noctis clung to, like holding on to Prompto would let him hold on to this new dream, where they could all be alive and together. “Where’s Gladio and Ignis?”

“They’re on their way, there’s— oh yeah,” Prompto said, breaking away from their embrace and standing up. “There’s something I gotta show you. C’mon!”

“Hold up a sec,” Noctis said, taking the proffered hand and letting himself be pulled to his feet, standing on the spot for a moment while trying to regain his shaky balance. “Still a bit out of it.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” Prompto said, worrying his lower lip. He hadn’t let go of his hand. “Will you be ok? Where’s your shirt?”

“Dunno,” Noctis said, shrugging. “I’ll be fine, just gotta take it slow.”

“You can borrow one of mine. Just like high school, right? ‘Cept the other way ‘round.”

“Yeah, feels like high school all over again,” he said, letting out a light, sardonic laugh. “Don’t think we were holding hands in high school, though.”

“R-right,” Prompto said, dropping his hand and blushing a furious red. Noctis suppressed the lance of pain that crossed his heart at the breaking of that contact. “It’s just… I’m here, ok? If you need to lean on me.”

“Didn’t say it was bad,” Noctis mumbled, taking him up on the offer and holding on to his shoulder as they made their way down the caravan steps. “Kinda need it right now.”

“Yeah.”

As he looked around this new Hammerhead, he felt a hand snake around his back and rest on his hip. He leaned into the touch, letting out a sigh of relief as he allowed Prompto to take some of his body weight off his trembling legs.

Hammerhead had completely transformed in the month he had been away. Fences, containers and razor wire surrounded the perimeter and each corner had a makeshift set of floodlights beating down harsh fluorescent light out into the surrounding wilderness. Trucks full of weapons, their sides left open for all to see, held a lonely vigil near both entrances.

The area was devoid of all human life, save for Takka’s diner, a beacon of warm light and happy noise in the bleak surroundings. “Everyone’s gone in to celebrate,” Prompto whispered in his ear. But what caught his eye was the Regalia, standing proudly in the parking lot and gleaming under all the artificial light. Exactly as he remembered.

“Starting to feel like it can all go back to normal,” he whispered. He felt the arm around his waist tighten as his own legs failed him and he leaned his entire weight on Prompto.

“Not everything,” Prompto whispered back. “But yeah… I think we’re gonna make it.”

’Not everything’ made a lot more sense once Ignis and Gladio hiked through the entrance, as usual stubbornly determined not to show the toll the journey had taken on them. Noctis was lying in the back seat of the Regalia, his strength failing him in the first five minutes of waiting for the others. Prompto sat in the passenger seat, filling him in on everything that had happened while he was in the crystal as he drifted in and out of sleep.

“Hey kid,” Gladio called from the gate. “This what you wanted us to see?”

“What is it?” Ignis asked softly.

“Looks like Cindy fixed up the Regalia for us.”

“Well, it _was_ ,” Prompto said, a nervous chuckle running through his words. He cast a glance to the back seat and Noctis took that as his cue to sit up.

“Prompto, you little shit,” Gladio bellowed as he rushed to the car. “You said he hadn’t turned up.”

“He hadn’t!” Prompto said defensively, raising his hands. “I only found him an hour ago!”

Gladio beamed, reaching over to ruffle Noctis’s hair. “Good seeing you in one piece, Noct.”

“Highness?” Ignis called quietly as he approached the car. Noctis tried to call out to him, but the lump in his throat turned it into a breathy whimper. “Is that you?”

“Yeah,” he whispered finally, his eyes completely locked on his advisor’s face even as he smoothed out his hair. It was hard to miss the shaded glasses… or the way he was facing him at just slightly the wrong angle, eyes pointing over his shoulder. “Yeah Ignis, it’s me.”

“It is a relief to hear your voice. We had feared the worst.”

“I think that was the original plan,” Noctis said.

Prompto turned to him, leaning over the back of the seat. “What do you mean?”

“Just something Luna said.” A wistful smile formed on his lips. “I get the feeling she bullied the astrals into letting us going.”

Prompto’s face was an adorable mix of apprehension and hope. “Us? So she’s…?”

“Yeah, but she said it’d be a while. Probably got more bullying to do.”

“We all have a lot to do,” Ignis said. “With the dawn back, we must consider how we will recover—”

“We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do,” Gladio said, his heavy hand landing on Ignis’ shoulder. “We’ll drown if we don’t come up for air, Iggy.”

“Time really is of the essence, Gladiolus.”

“The world can wait a day or two. Let’s have some fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These boys really needed some happiness. Hope you all enjoyed it!  
> I haven't really edited this story or had anyone check it over, so please forgive any egregious errors.


	5. He Can Fix It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's somewhat of a sex scene in this chapter, so if you're after a clean version, [check out the one on FFN](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12332708/5/Calling-All-Dawns). I think this is the first time I've actually written anything explicit, so be nice! :D

“Here you go… almost there, buddy.”

Noctis let himself fall on to the bed, flumping into the uncomfortable bedding with all the dignity of a landed fish. “Thanks Prompto,” he mumbled into the covers. “Wake me up next year.”

He felt the mattress shift next to him and rolled over with a grumble, only to end up buried against Prompto’s side. “Love to, buddy,” Prompto said. “But Iggy’d kill me once he found I just dumped you on the bed and left.”

“I’ll be fine,” Noctis grumbled, pulling himself up with some difficulty to sit on the side of the bed next to Prompto. “You can go back to the party.”

“Nah, I may not be as tired as you, but I’m pretty beat,” Prompto said. He tugged at Noctis’s jacket, the prince obediently shrugging his shoulders to allow the garment to slip off. “C’mon, lets get you out of those clothes.”

Noctis flushed red as he was manhandled out of his boots and pants. At least Prompto seemed to be taking it in stride, pulling the dirty clothes off one by one and neatly laying them on the nearby chair like it was just another task that needed doing at camp. Ignis would have been so proud. A little help in pulling the covers aside and he was laying there on the bed in just his boxers and shirt, his friend helping to make sure he was comfortable while he slid his shirt over his head.

“Whoah,” Prompto said, fingers reaching out for his chest, only stopping a moment away from touching his skin. “When did you get that?”

Noctis frowned and looked looked down to where Prompto’s fingers were gesturing. His lidded eyes snapped open at the sight of an ugly, fresh scar. Exactly the width of a sword’s blade — a _particular_ sword’s blade — running in a perfectly vertical line in the middle of his chest. “It’s…” he began, running his fingers over the raised skin in disbelief. Prompto let his own hand drop to his side. “I thought it didn’t happen.”

“What?”

Noctis drew in on himself, pulling his arms around his knees and hugging them tightly to his bare chest. “I thought it wasn’t real,” he whispered, head buried.

Prompto’s shoes thudded against the wall and then his friend was on the bed, one arm wrapped around his shoulder. “You ok, Noct? D-do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, it’s fine,” Noctis said, shaking his head. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, stretching his legs back down the bed and shoving the covers to the bottom. “I died, or I dreamed I died, or… something. In the crystal. It was…” He traced the scar with his fingertips as Prompto’s head leaned against his own. “Well, that’s how.”

“But you’re alive, right? It doesn’t matter what happened, you’re alive now.”

He was alive, and Prompto being so warm against him was proof of that, but… the image of his father’s sword flying towards him, the way it took all the breath from him as it sliced through his sternum… it was impossible to shake. He took Prompto’s hand into his own and pressed it over his heart.

“Yeah,” Prompto said after a few seconds of skin touching skin. The worry fell Prompto’s face and his lips twitched in a smile. “Yeah, you’re still here.”

“Sorry, it’s just…” Noctis closed his eyes and let out a short bark of a laugh, trying to ignore the shiver that flowed through his body. “It’s been a bit stressful.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed, nodding along. “Do you want me to go so you can rest? Iggy and Gladio claimed the other bed, but I can get the couch.”

It was just like Prompto, selfless and sweet until the very end, but subjecting any of his friends to a rough night on a tiny couch was out of the question, no matter the circumstances. They were all used to sharing beds at this point and after long enough camping out in the wilderness any bed, no matter how cramped, was an absolute luxury.

When Prompto took his silence the wrong way and moved to get out of the bed, Noctis stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Stay.”

“I’m not a puppy,” Prompto teased, grinning back at him. 

He knew he should have closed his eyes when Prompto rolled his vest from his shoulders, should have kept to their unspoken rules of privacy instead of staring like a creeper as the shirt lifted up his back, exposing his curving spine and long lines of lean muscle. The subtle and inappropriate hints he could see as Prompto bent over a little too far to tug his pants over his ankles.

“Shuffle over,” Prompto said, pushing against Noctis with a good natured grin on his lips. Noctis grabbed the sheets and pulled the covers over them both, giving a silent prayer that his friend wouldn’t notice his underwear had more of a bulge in it than before. For the blush that was currently radiating heat of the tips of his ears however, even the gods couldn’t hide that.

“I’m kinda getting why you were so clingy,” Prompto said, laying an arm over Noctis’ chest.

“Huh?”

“If I touch you, it makes it real. You won’t go away again.”

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed. He couldn’t help but let his guard down under Prompto’s warm touch. He rolled over to face him and placed a hand on his bicep. “It feels like I can’t relax.”

“You want some help with that?”

“What?” Noctis asked, only just catching the way Prompto’s eye flicked down. Any other words he might have brought to bear caught in his throat. Did he really mean…?

“Like in High School.”

_Oh_. Like those awkward moments in high school where teenage hormones got the better of them and they would fumble and fool around, trying to pretend what they were doing was normal and—

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

— and didn’t mean anything. He looked over at Prompto, lips pursed yet face open. Ready to take whatever answer Noctis would give him with a smile and a laugh, no matter how much it might hurt inside.

It was a terrible idea, better to just say no and pretend the whole thing didn’t happen.

Prompto understood why, they’d talked about it.

Just say no.

“Yeah,” Noctis said. He didn’t feel an ounce of regret as Prompto drew closer to him, a hand trailing down his abdomen and slipping under his waistband.

“Just relax,” Prompto said as his hand rubbed against Noctis’s half hard cock, teasing it until it was large enough to wrap his slender fingers around. “I’ll take care of you.”

Noctis bit back a moan as Prompto started stroking him in earnest, spreading his legs and leaning in to the other man. It was rough, alternating between gripping too tightly and not tightly enough, every stroke just shy of the right angle.

It was perfect.

He touched a hand to Prompto’s chin, turning his head just enough to lean in and lock their lips together. It was a chaste kiss, Noctis pulling away in disappointment when Prompto refused to open his mouth to let him in.

“What are you doing?” Prompto asked, eyes wide. His hand had stilled, though it still remained wrapped tightly around Noctis as he stared back.

“Making a choice,” Noctis explained, placing a small kiss to the tip of Prompto’s nose and smiling at the other man’s shy giggle. “You’ve got your hand on my dick and you’re worried about a kiss?”

Prompto didn’t respond, but did allow Noctis to deepen the kiss when he went back for a second time. They were horrible at it, knocking their teeth and making awful smacking noises whenever they parted, but in the moment it felt like the most perfect and natural thing they had ever done. Noctis panted against Prompto’s lips, his hips rolling to push him into every stroke of his cock. He ran his hand down Prompto’s chest, fingers lovingly tracing the outline of nearly smooth, lean abs before plunging down below Prompto’s own waistband and taking hold of the desperately hard cock inside.

“You don’t have to,” Prompto protested.

Like in high school. Where Prompto would jerk him off, but he would never reciprocate. Because a prince shouldn’t be doing that sort of thing, because it could never work out, because of a whole host of reasons that sounded reasonable at the time but still couldn’t prevent Noctis from spiralling down into guilt for being so shitty and _selfish_ when Prompto was willing to give him _everything_ and not ask for a single thing in return.

“I _want_ to,” Noctis growled in his ear, voice gravelly with lust as he pushed Prompto’s underwear down and gave his cock a firm, long stroke. Then a longer stroke. Then an even longer stroke…

“Holy shit, Prompto,” Noctis snorted, pushing away from their tangle of limbs and shoving the covers down the bed. “Your dick is huge.”

Either Prompto was annoyed at him stating the obvious or just to embarrassed to respond, but Noctis used the opportunity to take him all in… so to speak. Putting a hand on each knee, he slid his hands up Prompto’s thighs until they were parted enough for a full, unobstructed view. Resting against his pale stomach and reaching past his belly button, Prompto’s cock was only a bit thicker than his own average sized shaft, but so much longer. It looked just as hard as it had felt moments before.

Noctis couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing that came to mind. “That’s not going anywhere near my butt.”

Prompto giggled, his cheeks so red they nearly drowned out his freckles. It was the sexiest thing Noctis had ever seen. “You sure know how to make a boy blush, Noct.”

“It’s sexy,” Noctis said, crawling in between Prompto’s legs and giving the other man a brief kiss. “I kinda want to suck it.”

“Be my guest.”

“Not yet,” Noctis said, grinning. “I haven’t come this far just to choke to death on your _giant dong_.”

_That_ had Prompto breaking down into a hysterical fit of giggles, clutching on to Noctis’s shoulders just to keep himself from falling onto the bed. Noctis used the opportunity to wrap his arms around Prompto, planting kisses up and down his slender neck while giving in to his own bubbling laughter.

“Way to ruin the mood,” Prompto snorted. He felt the shuffling as Prompto moved, stealing a glance downwards to see that monster being covered back up with a slip of thin fabric.

“I dunno,” Noctis said, pulling his own boxers back up. “Sorry, I’m too tired… besides…” He wrapped his arms back around Prompto as they lay down in the bed and nuzzled into his neck. “We have all the time we need.”

They settled into an uneasy rest. Prompto was too tense in his arms, too restless. He could feel his heartbeat when his hand moved over to his chest, as fast and shallow as his breathing.

“You ok, Prompto?” he asked, pulling on Prompto’s arm until he rolled over to face him.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean… I just… what is this?” Prompto’s eyes briefly locked with Noctis’s own, but they were soon darting away with a ducked head. “I just… I want to know where I stand.”

Noctis pulled him closer, pressing their chests together as he brushed his lips against Prompto’s. “I want to be with you,” he whispered, bringing Prompto in for another soft, languid kiss. “So you can stand by me.”

“But what about Luna, what about…” Prompto said, ducking his head and thus providing the perfect opportunity for Noctis to kiss the light dusting of freckles on his forehead.

“All the prince shit?” Noctis shook his head. “It’s over. I can choose what I want now. And what I want is you.”

Noctis felt his chest clench as Prompto finally raised his head and he was able to stare into the other man’s eyes. They were such a stormy blue, like the rim of a cloud on an overcast day. Such a contrast from his sunny personality.

“I mean it,” Noctis continued when no reply from Prompto was forthcoming. If it wasn’t for… well, everything… I would’ve chosen this a long time ago.”

“O-okay.”

Noctis sighed and snuggled in to Prompto’s side. Just ok? Maybe he was going too fast? Prompto hadn’t really said what _he_ wanted, right? “Let’s get some sleep,” he suggested, closing his eyes. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

He was asleep before he heard Prompto’s next words.


	6. Breakfast at Takka's

Ignis trailed his finger over the summary of events he had collected in the early hours. Unwilling to disturb the others, he had taken up camp outside the caravan before the break of dawn to man the radio and get updates on the surviving outposts.

All things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The power lines being taken out near Old Lestallum had led to the fall of every outpost in Cleigne south of Lestallum, but most towns in the east that still had power managed to hold out. The populations of those that didn’t, and half of those that still did, had taken refuge in Lestallum the first day the sun had failed to rise.

It was a sobering thought that the only reason they didn’t have problems with overcrowding refugees is that so many people just hadn’t made it.

He pulled the microphone in front of him and thumbed the switch. “Marshal, have there been any reports of daemon sightings from last night?”

The radio crackled to life a dozen seconds later. _None that I’ve heard. Are you expecting…?_

“I would think it safer to not assume we are completely free of the daemonic plague until we can confirm it empirically.”

_Sure. I’ll get some volunteers to scout tonight, see what they find._

“Thank you, Marshal.”

_Oh, before you go… will the king be coming up to Lestallum?_

“Prince, Cor. He is still the prince until his coronation,” Ignis admonished lightly. “I believe it is likely, I will suggest it to him.”

_Thanks Ignis. We’ll sit tight here for a couple of days._

Ignis pushed the microphone away when the door to the caravan opened. Gladio, judging by the footsteps.

“Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” Gladio replied. “Looks like those two are pretty cozy.”

Ignis sighed and picked his glasses up from the table, placing them on his face with deliberate care. “I am not having this conversation.”

Gladio huffed. “Didn’t stop you when they were teenagers.”

_“Do not forget your duty to the crown, to your father, to your people!”_

_“How can I forget when it gets thrown in my face every fucking second of my life!”_

_“Noctis! Such language is—”_

_“Ignis! I don't give a shit!”_

“Yes, and much has changed since then,” Ignis snapped. “If you are not satisfied now that Noctis will rise to his duty when it comes, then perhaps I am not the only one to be struck blind.”

“Hey, hey.” Gladio’s footsteps approached and he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not trying to bag on the kid. But we’ve gotta be there when he gets distracted from what he’s gotta do.”

_“You’re acting unreasonably, your highness.”_

_“No, it’s like I’m the only one with any sense of fucking perspective! All I want is to make my own damn choice for once!”_

_“Not when your consequences for-”_

_“Don’t give me that shit! This isn’t about heirs or succession or anything! It’s about me being an embarrassment. I get it. Being myself would throw all of Lucis into scandal.”_

_“Noctis…”_

_“Stop lying to me, Ignis. I know I can’t get what I want. Just don’t lie to me about why I can’t.”_

Ignis bowed his head. “Noctis accepted that the price for banishing the darkness would be his life. He never tried to turn back, even then.”

“But it wasn’t, Iggy.”

“Gladio, when I felt the sun yesterday, do you know what my first thought was? I thought he was gone. He never had to marry. He never had to continue the Caelum line.” Ignis steadied himself, unclenching his fists. “I thought — what if I had spent my energies on making those few years happy instead of making him feel like a _fucking outcast_.”

“He’s still alive—”

“Which is exactly why I will not make that mistake _again_ ,” Ignis said. Placing his hand over Gladio’s where it rested on his shoulder, he gently brushed the bigger man’s touch away. “I will not let tradition make a hypocrite out of me. Do what you feel is right, Gladio, but do me a favour.”

“Yea?”

“Make sure that _you_ feel it is the right thing to do, first.”

Whatever Gladio was thinking, he didn’t voice it, opting instead to sit down in the chair next to him with a soft grunt and an ominous creak.

They say in thoughtful silence until the creak of wood told them they were not alone.

“Good morning, Prompto,” Ignis said cheerfully.

“What, you assumed I’d be up last?” Noctis asked, dropping into a chair with an indignant huff.

“My apologies,” Ignis said, though sincerity was hardly dripping from his words. “I had not expected such a miraculous transformation.”

Gladio snickered next to him, but all he could hear from Noctis was a ruffling of clothes. Folding his arms perhaps?

“Where are we heading today?” Noctis asked finally, accompanied by another rustle of fabric.

“I did not have plans,” Ignis admitted. Ideas, maybe. More than enough of those. But no solid plans. “The Marshal asked that we stop by Lestallum, so I would suggest that in there absence of more pressing matters.”

“Sure,” Noctis said breezily. “Let’s head out after breakfast.”

“What’s for breakfast?” A voice blearily called from the side. Prompto, of course.

Ignis frowned. What indeed. His determination to not let his lack of sight get in the way of his duties did not overrule his good sense, and working with dangerously hot materials while unable to see definitely fell out of any realm of good judgement.

“Let’s hit up the Crow’s Nest,” Gladio suggested before he could reply. 

“Man, I could do with some fries,” Noctis agreed next.

Ignis sighed and filed away another mental note. Food would have to be yet another arrangement to deal with, lest His Highness fall back into the disastrous nutrition of his teenage years. “Very well,” he said, letting an undercurrent of reprimand into his tone. “A quick stop before we head out.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” Noctis said, his footsteps already leading towards the caravan. “Gotta take a shower first.”

“Uh, yeah,” Prompto said with an indistinguishable shuffle. “Me too.”

Gladio chuckled softly beside him, but thankfully said nothing besides. “Come on Iggy, let’s get you inside.”

“My feet are still perfectly capable, thank you, Gladio,” he said, one hand on the table as he carefully pulled himself out from the plastic chair. “I can make it to the diner by my—”

“C’mon, Iggy,” Gladio said, his hand wrapping around the inside of Ignis’s elbow. “Let’s get you—”

“I said I am _fine_ ,” Ignis snapped, yanking his arm out of Gladio’s grasp.

“Hey, c’mon Iggy,” Gladio said. It was hard to miss the hurt in his voice. “You’ve gotta stop being so stubborn about this.”

“I am _not_ being stubborn!” Well, that was a lie. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, shaking off Gladio’s hand once again when it touched him gently on the shoulder. “I will not pretend that it is not causing me difficulty,” he said finally, his straightening his back and looking straight in the direction he could feel Gladio in. “But neither does it make me useless. I will bear it will the same dignity that every other blind man in the history of our kingdom has.”

“Just…” Gladio sighed. “Promise me you’ll ask for help when you need it?”

“Very well. I will ask for help when I require it. If you promise not to offer help when I do not.”

 

* * *

 

Prompto crossed his arms over the side of the Regalia’s door, laying his head down into the little valley that they formed. The late morning sun was shining down on them, teasing his fair skin with its burning tingle. His hair fluttered in the wind, leaving him to occasionally twitch his nose as a strand awkwardly brushed against his face. It felt so much like the way things were, before Altissia. So much like the ways things were, that it was impossible to forget that they weren’t.

Noctis sat beside him, stoic and lifeless, having barely said a word to him since their sappy good mornings as they lay in bed together. Every time he looked, his prince’s eyes were looking far out in the horizon, to some future he couldn’t see.

Ignis had taken over Noctis’s usual place in the back seat. He looked smaller somehow, drawn in on himself. Prompto had tried making conversation, leaning over his seat like he always had, but nothing came of it. Gladio had put down his book, but said nothing. Ignis only replied with the bare minimum his questions required. So Prompto sat back down and stared out at the scenery as it rolled past.

They were on their way to Lestallum to meet up with Cor and the rest of the surviving Crownsguard. To take back the Crown City probably, secure the future for their kingdom.

Prompto sighed, closing his eyes as the wind once again blew his hair into his face.

He couldn’t where they were going. Everyone one of them was looking in a different direction.

He just hoped that whatever future Noctis saw, he still wanted him to be a part of it.


End file.
